The Dead We Hold Dear
by LunaRoad
Summary: The dead of One Piece tell the stories of how they died. What did Kuina feel as she tumbled down those stairs, never to become the swordswoman she hoped to be? And what about Banchina, leaving her only child alone in the world? The dead speak of their hopes for the ones who would eventually join the Straw Hat Pirates. Spoilers- Enjoy!


**LunaRoad here. Well, I haven't written a fanfiction for about a year, felt it was time to do one. This is my first One Piece fanfiction! Speaking of which, I don't own One Piece, Eichiro Oda (my god) does. Enjoy, my Nakama!**

**By the way, each chapter will be longer than the previous because the first few we barely learn about the characters I'm writing in the perspective of, and as we go further into One Piece, we learn more about them. **

**If you do not like spoilers, do no read please. And if you complain that I spoiled something, I warned you. Don't be a flamer. Be a…um…what was I talking about again?**

Chapter 1- Heiress

I was supposed to be born a boy.

I always knew it. My father always looked at me with pride, but I saw behind his eyes leaked his disappointment that I, who had taken my mother's life for mine, was a girl. I just wanted to make him proud, despite my being a girl.

So I trained at his dojo. Each day, I trained for four, six, eight hours. I would make my father smile at me with his eyes, and I would take over the dojo when he grew too old to do so. I became the best swordswoman there, even better than many of the adults. My dad did smile at me with his eyes.

And yet.

The men who were at the dojo were uneasy with the promise of me taking over when I was older. If I became the grandmaster, no one would come. No one wanted a swordswoman.

But it was on that day, when I fought with that little green-haired shrimp, that I saw something…different. Something in his eyes. And I realized that he didn't care that I was a girl, he just cared that I was better than him. I knew many men also felt this way, but whenever I beat those adult men, they were disdainful at being beaten by a girl, not the sword master I am.

I watched that little boy's growth- as he metamorphosed into a better swordsman, and a better man. Every day he challenged me, sometimes twice or three times. Every day I beat him. He got frustrated every single time I pointed the tip of the wooden sword at his face. Even though I appeared cool and collected to him, I was fascinated. No one had ever paid me so much attention.

And on that night when I beat him for the 2,001st time, even with his two swords, I thought he was going to cry. I sheathed my beloved sword, which I cared for as if it was a child, into its sheath.

On that night, amidst our tears and shortcomings, we made a pact. One of us would be the best swordsman ever. I hoped so much that it would be me, but I knew that wasn't possible.

When I grew up, I would be shorter than men, weaker, and I would have a chest that would simply interfere with my training and battles.

That night, I snuck into my house, trying not to wake my father and let him know that I had been outside at dark. I looked at my sword. It needed to be cleaned. I ran upstairs, to my room. The cleaning cloth and solution wasn't there. I remembered that my father had made me bring it downstairs to clean the swords we had in the supply room in the basement. I tore down the stairs, eager to go to bed and sleep, tripping over my shoes a bit on the way. I hadn't taken them off. "Shit." I murmured, running back to the front door to slip them off and I ran to the supply room. I opened the door, taking a step forward-

-And somehow misjudging my own step. I flew down two stairs before throwing my arms out to steady my fall, but they were thrown back against my throat as I dived headfirst down. I yelped loudly in surprise. My eyes watered in pain as I banged my head against the stair railing and then taking a dive, down ten stairs to the hard concrete floor. I was out.

"Kuina…Kuina." I could hear my dad's worried voice, and I opened my eyes to see him. My neck and my head hurt, scorching pain, but I couldn't feel the rest of my body- it was all numb. I tried to open my eyes. I saw my father's face, dimly. Tears were falling from his eyes onto my face.

There was a darkness in me and outside me. It didn't hurt.

"Kuina…Kuina!" That wasn't my dad's voice. It was a woman's, flowery with a slight lilt, and filled me up with warmth. I knew it was my mother's.

"You're almost with me, Kuina." She said. "Almost there…" I reached out my hand, feeling a soft hand on mine."

Suddenly another word broke the silence. "Stop!" it was Zoro. I saw his face, filled with anger. "What are you doing?" I saw him ask. "Don't die, Kuina."

His pleading didn't work. The darkness was closing in, washing over my toes, my fingers, up my neck and to my head, down to my heart. My mind was free to wander. "Promise me you'll be the best swordsman, Zoro." I whispered. "Promise me this, Roronoa Zoro!"

And it was all over.

**Thanks for reading, guys! Tell me if you liked it or not. If you did, add it to subscriptions or comment or something so I know to write more or not. I have a lot of characters in mind to write about! 3**


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